


You Can Lie to Yourself, But You Can't Lie to Me

by Lywinis



Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: Richie's been avoiding Eddie. It works. Until it doesn't.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686373
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138





	You Can Lie to Yourself, But You Can't Lie to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bearfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearfeathers/gifts), [birkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birkin/gifts).



> Tumblr Prompt, Frustrated Friends: “Why wouldn’t I be here for you, you idiot?”

“Gee, I don't know, because you hate everything else about my career,” Richie snorted, popping the cap off a bottle of water with a twist of his wrist and chugging the lukewarm liquid. Standup made him parched; he spent two hours talking to people about intensely private things, only to want a bottle of water and an ibuprofen when he bounced off stage.

“Yeah, but this is your comeback, where you actually write your own shit,” Eddie said, and Richie shrugged, like Eddie could see him. He had the phone pressed against his ear, rummaging around his little space for a snack. “And we all agreed—”

“They bullied you into it,” Richie said. Nodding sagely, he found a Twix and fiddled with the wrapper, being obnoxiously loud because maybe that would piss Eddie off and he would hang up. “I see! Good 'ol Billiam, I knew I could count on—”

“Rich, will you shut the fuck up? For like, five minutes?” Eddie snapped it, biting off the words like he was chewing them specifically. “Or just five seconds. We all wanted to come. All of us.”

Things had been weird since Derry. Richie had been able to compartmentalize the whole 'killer clown that was actually an eldritch being from beyond time and space that fed on fear and found children extra tasty' thing. That was easy to pass off as a fever dream, or a mass hallucination.

No, it was the fuckups afterward that left the bad taste in his mouth. He never should have stayed at the hospital, never should have waited for Eddie to wake up, never should have waited to call the other Losers in. No, blurting out a childhood crush to a man high as a fucking kite had been an A+ decision made by one Richie Tozier, in line with a million, million others.

“I didn't want you to have to come,” Richie said. “You shouldn't interrupt your life because of me.”

He had fled Derry with his tail between his legs once he determined Eddie would live. That was the kindest thing he could have done, given the circumstances.

Now, his shame buzzed beneath his skin, cold and clammy like it always was. He couldn't even meet his own eyes in the mirror at his table, much less anyone else's.

“Rich.” Eddie's voice startled him. He fumbled with the phone and accidentally disconnected the call.

“Fuck,” he said, and his phone began buzzing again. 

He ignored it, not really wanting to be flayed open over the phone. This was the kind of personal, soul rending sort of talks that he avoided, and he was going to avoid it now. He shoved his phone in his pocket and grabbed his cigarettes. He was done for the night, so he was going to have a smoke, and then he was going to go back to his hotel and thank the Losers in the group chat like a semi-normal human being.

His phone rang again, and he silenced it, grabbing his bag and clicking off the lights in his dressing room. He didn't even want the damn candy left for him. He was nauseous now.

He clattered out of the backstage area, knowing that there could be people waiting on him; people wanting an unofficial meet and greet, well-wishers, that sort of thing. Tonight, though, it seems security had run them off, and Richie was grateful for it. He didn't think he could turn on the Trashmouth right now.

“Dickhead.” He startled hard, whipping around to see Eddie leaning against the wall.

“Security—”

“Thinks I'm your limo driver, asshole. Get in the car.” Oh, Eddie was angrier than Richie remembered ever seeing him. This wasn't the apoplectic rage of too much teasing. No, this was clipped sentences and carefully controlled body movements. Eddie snagged his bag and Richie let him take it, knowing that walking away wasn't an option right now.

Wordlessly, he followed Eddie to a dark Escalade parked by the curb. The windows were tinted in the back, so sure, he could see where security might be bamboozled into thinking he was the driver.

Belatedly, as Eddie gestured for him to sit in the front and he tossed his duffel on the back seat, he remembered that he'd put all the Losers on the access list. Well, that was on him.

The SUV started with a rumble and Richie buckled himself in, not wanting to get scolded for something outside of what he was already gonna get reamed about. Eddie watched him, big brown eyes glittering in his face like chips of flint, and pulled away when the seatbelt clicked home.

“You gonna find an alley to strangle me in?” Richie asked after a moment.

“Shut up, Rich.” Eddie's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Just to torture himself that little bit more, Richie's eyes snapped to the pale strip of skin on Eddie's ring finger. His divorce had been final for six months. Six months, eight days. But who was counting. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I can't shut up and answer your questions, Eds—”

“Fuck you, yes you can.”

“Because I wanted to give you space,” Richie said.

“Fuck you, that's not it.” Eddie flicked his indicator and changed lanes, weaving in and out of traffic like he was born to drive stunts instead of analyze the annual drop off of hedge funds. “You've been avoiding me. One word answers for texts, unless I'm in the group chat. It's like you don't feel safe with me anymore.”

Richie's jaw jumped as he looked out into traffic.

“I said some heavy shit when you were coming off painkillers, man. No one needs that kind of shit on their plate on top of recovering from—”

“I recovered fine,” Eddie said. “Didn't even develop fucking sepsis, like Myra—”

He fell silent, turning down a side street. Richie realized they were nearing his hotel. He clenched his hands on his knees, staring at the dashboard.

“Look,” Eddie said after a long moment. “Rich. We miss you. _I_ miss you. It feels like you threw up a wall when you left Derry. If you don't want us around anymore, I get it but—”

“No!” Richie's voice was hoarse, a horrified croak as he stared at Eddie. “That's not it!”

“Then what is it?” Eddie asked, that thin thread of frustration back in his voice. “We just got each other back and now it feels like you're—you're leaving again. Like you want to forget.”

“You guys are my best friends,” Richie said. “My only friends, really. Like, I know people but not like...not like the Losers. I love you guys.”

“We love you, too,” Eddie said. “Which is why we were all here tonight.”

“You were?” he asked. He hadn't seen them. No one had claimed the passes he'd set aside. (He was used to that, but it was...habit, maybe, to set it aside.)

“Yeah, in the back,” Eddie said, the beginning of a smirk creeping up on him. “Wanted to see if your new shit would bomb, or if you could put your money where your fucking Trashmouth is.”

“Fuck you, Eds,” Richie said. His voice was still croaky. “Fuck you, man.”

He swiped his glasses off his face, scrubbing at his eyes. He hadn't wanted to do this but—

He felt Eddie take his glasses, pressing a tissue into his hand.

“You're like an ultra-prepared uber driver,” Richie said after wiping his face. “Good driver, cute, but a fucking amateur therapist. Would not stop talking about my feelings. 0/5 stars.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Eddie said, pulling into the hotel parking lot and into a space in one long, smooth motion.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.” It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and the air became heavy, thick and crackling with charged silence. Thunder rolling just before the lightning strike, where you count the heartbeats between them to gauge the storm's distance. When Eddie handed him his glasses, clean now, Richie could feel the way their fingers brushed and leaving sparks against his thumb and forefinger.

“Maybe I would, if I knew you wouldn't get all weird about it,” Eddie said after a long moment. “But I know your heart belongs to my mom and so you're all out of material now that I've said it. So what are you gonna do, Richie?”

Richie shoved his glasses back on to look at Eddie, his jaw hanging open. Eddie leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, regarding him with an arched brow. There was an open challenge in his face, like he expected Richie to fight back, to give as good as he got.

“I—”

“Doesn't have to happen,” Eddie said, blinking slowly at him. “But I wouldn't be opposed to it.”

“Eds—”

“Rich, do you realize you left me, in the middle of _fucking Derry_ , after telling me you've been in love with me since we were kids? I wasn't alone but it sure as fuck felt like it. I went through a divorce, I went through physio, I went through it. But I went through it by myself. And I kept asking myself what the point was, if someone who said he loved me was all the way across the fucking country? And he wasn't talking to me? Wouldn't answer texts without them being sanitized, like he was afraid to cross boundaries.” Eddie sighed. “I missed you. Of course I did.”

Oh, Eddie was coming for his fucking life, wasn't he? Richie swallowed.

“And if I for one second thought you didn't still feel the same way, I wouldn't be here.” Eddie's eyes never left him. “But I heard the new bit. I heard all the stuff you left out because you're still afraid. Where was the guy throwing rocks at a fucking space clown on stage?”

“Back in Derry,” Richie admitted. It was easy to be brave when you thought you were going to die before facing the consequences.

“Nah,” Eddie said. “That's bullshit. He's still in there.”

Eddie reached out, pressing his palm to Richie's chest.

“Yeah,” he said, his hand over Richie's heart, feeling how it pounded against his ribs. “There he is.”

“Eddie,” Richie said, his voice soft. “I can't—”

“Can't what?” Eddie pressed.

“If you don't feel—” Richie swallowed. “I can't do this if it's casual. If there's no—if you don't feel the same way. You don't have to—”

“Richie. You dumbfuck. I came all the way out here to see you. I wanted to. I still want to. You're my best friend and I'm pretty sure that this is hurting us both, the way we left things in Derry. I'm here because I want to be here. No one's twisting my arm. So. Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” Richie breathed.

Eddie gave a small noise of annoyance, but he unbuckled his belt, leaning across the console and pressing their mouths together. Tentative, cautious, until Richie leaned into him, sighing out something that might have been Eddie's name. He wasn't sure.

Eddie pulled back, giving a shaky inhale, brown eyes blown black.

“Come on,” Richie said, grinning at him like he hadn't had his whole world flipped on its axis. “You can do better than that.”

Eddie patted his face, a little harder than he needed to. “Later. We've got drinks with the Losers.”

Richie was content to put a pin in it. The way Eddie talked, he wasn't going anywhere. Richie found that it suited him just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that got away from me. There should be more forthcoming, but just a sort of AU to my own little headcanon established universe. I like dealing with what-ifs and maybes and poking about with timelines. Thank you for reading!
> 
> More like this:
> 
> [These Kids, They're All Right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055463) \- One shots based on all the Losers. Fix-it, complete.
> 
> [Stopgap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311801) \- One shot, complete. Stream of consciousness thoughts based off a rant I went onto in chat about how Richie tries to replace the Losers in his life after he leaves Derry, and how he's unsuccessful.
> 
> [this is the one where he tells you he loves you (and this is the one where you finally believe him)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006116) \- One shot, complete. Eddie moves to LA. (A first try at this, attempting to nail down what I consider 'canon' for them.)


End file.
